Miscellaneous
by Zellarius Burvenia
Summary: A series of off-the-wall oneshots concerning Organization XIII. Pirates, printers, disorders, and more await the reader. Updated whenever I feel like it.
1. OCD

**I. OCD**

"…Right. So why _do _you eat rice uncooked?" Vexen inquired, with a searching glance across the table at Demyx.

The Melodious Nocturne merely shrugged. "There's not much I can say about it. I like the taste, you know? Untouched. And it crunches really nicely. I guess it's like letting popcorn age a day or two – if you know what I mean?"

Vexen sat up straight in his chair suddenly, deprived of his train of thought and unable to hide his incredulity at his subordinate's eating habits. "I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean, Demyx. In fact, I've forgotten what I even summoned you here to discuss. Can we pick this up later?"

Demyx adopted a blank, quizzical stare. Who could possibly not like aged popcorn? "Sure, Vexen. Whatever you say." He was in the middle of opening a portal when Vexen abruptly rose, nearly panicking. "Wait! Put the chair back the way it was." Demyx had reversed it when he sat to talk with Vexen.

Now Number IX was even more confused. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

Vexen faltered, and took ten seconds to consider a satisfactory response. There wasn't one. "I…just like it that way. It helps me concentrate."

Demyx's look of confusion turned to one of tentative understanding as he complied with Vexen's strange request. "You know, I think they have medication for that."

"_Drown yourself."_


	2. Printer

**II. Printer**

Naminé sat in silence in the White Room, sketching a Dusk that was kind enough to pose for her. With little else to do in Castle Oblivion, this is where she could often be found. Normally the hours she would spend drawing carried an undercurrent of despair at her confinement; after all, she was forbidden to leave the room except for mealtimes or when specifically requested by one of the Organization. On Saturdays she would even be allowed outside, if she behaved. This particular day was different, however, in that Naminé had something new to take joy in.

Specifically, a brand-new sketchbook.

Every two or three weeks, Naminé would come to the last page in her sketchbook; every two or three weeks, therefore, Axel had learned to drop by with a new one. Naminé didn't know or care where he got them, as long as she constantly had somewhere to draw. The total lack of any other form of escape from her imprisonment made this a necessity.

The Dusk suddenly snapped to attention from the pose Naminé had given it, and the young Nobody froze. Behind her, she could hear the sound of a portal opening; one of the Organization had come for her. She stood, turning and curtsying as she had been taught to do. "What does the Lord of the Castle require?" Naminé asked in an impassive tone befitting of her state of nonbeing.

Marluxia regarded her with a wicked, appraising smirk, and answered. "We recently acquired another work of art for the Blind Gallery. Unfortunately, it was attacked by Heartless on its way back here, and the painting was lost. I understand the arts are your area of expertise, and believe you would be the one best equipped to make a reproduction."

Naminé's nonexistent heart sank. She hated doing commissioned work for Marluxia - even her sole source of entertainment seemed soulless when he chose to interfere with it. "May I ask what painting it was?" she said, keeping a courteous tone to mask her growing depression.

Marluxia's smirk widened into an evil grin. "This was a particulary masterful piece," he stated, handing Naminé a scaled-down picture of it. "'The Fairy-Feller's Master Stroke,' they call it."

Naminé scanned the fantastic contents of the picture carefully. It was an odd painting, covered with proud-looking fairies, grubby dwarves, and all manner of other fairytale creatures on the bank of a river. It was a painting she had heard of before, and she couldn't resist a sigh. "This is the one covered with so much obsessive detail that parts of it are almost three-dimensional with layers of paint?" she asked, letting a note of exasperation into her voice.

Naminé looked up at the Graceful Assassin then, and dared to question him. "Couldn't you use the 3-D printer in the computer room in the basements?"

Far from offense at such insubordination, Marluxia nodded, still smiling. "I could. But I'd prefer it be as close to the genuine article as possible. I'll provide a canvas. And make sure there are no errors - we wouldn't want a flaw marring our gallery's beauty." His response was even, but with a hint of retribution should his orders go unheeded.

Naminé sighed again, casting her gaze to her master's boots. "Yes, sir." Marluxia disappeared, satisfied. The Dusk remained, waiting as if for orders.

Naminé sank into her chair, pushing her notebook aside and laying her head on the table. "Oh, go away," she muttered, before giving herself over to silent tears.


	3. Pirate

**III. Pirate**

On a September 19th in the World That Never Was, the Castle That Never Was found itself in the middle of a lake. It was floating high above a lake, to be precise; the massive pit beneath it had filled with water since that morning, when one of the Organization opened a portal to Atlantica. Who it was would never be determined, but it is safe to assume that the perpetrator was aboard one of two vessels present in the water. These were Organization skiffs meant for naval missions; several had been lashed together and fitted with cannibalized sheet metal to make two larger, multi-decked boats in a top secret project that had gone on since August. Each was dressed up to look like a pirate ship. Each was crewed by a handful of Organization neophytes, who had all conveniently used one of their vacation days at the same time. And each was intent on blasting the holy hell out of the other.

"ARRR, me heartless! Keep on yer toes an' scatter th' foes, we're in fer a bloody day!" Demyx roared in his best (ridiculous) Blackbeard voice, a massive admiral's hat perched on his head at a rakish angle. He was balanced precariously atop the ship's wheel, steering with his feet and strumming power chords on his sitar; with each one, a geyser of water rocked the opposing ship. Below, on the main deck of the improvised ship, lesser Nobodies wearing blue and red bandannas clashed with claws and clumsily gripped blades. Dancers skated around Dusks, cutting their legs out from under them or throwing them overboard in their rhythmic assault, only to be grabbed from behind and blown to bits by an Assassin from the other ship.

Marluxia waded through the melee, scythe cutting pink gashes in the air as enemy Nobodies swarmed him. "I'm doin' the best I can, Cap'n!" Marluxia cried, speaking Pirate as embarrassingly as the rest of the Organization. "They jus' keep comin'! It's as if th' sea herself was thirstin' fer combat!" He spun, Jolly Roger-emblazoned cape flying behind him, cleaving waves of Dusks in two as more climbed aboard. With a quick series of gestures, Marluxia caused a gigantic, three-headed Venus flytrap to burst from the depths, which quickly set about grabbing the enemy soldiers off the ship with tentacle-like leaves and eating everything within range.

The pirate ships, christened _Nobody's Fool _and _Superior's Codpiece_, circled each other menacingly, filling the space between them with magic and cannon fire. The deadly projectiles created a kill zone a hundred feet across; fire, ice, lightning and metal flew back and forth at impossible speeds. Here a Nobody would be vaporized, there a piece of a ship would be torn off, and more often than not the shots impacted the water, causing violent waves that tossed the ships and the Nobody crews swimming across the water between them to fight. It was a scene of chaos not normally witnessed in the otherwise tranquil World that Never Was, and in the middle of it all two Organization members dueled for control of the sea. Luxord's ragged, three-cornered hat somehow managed to stay on in the confusion, even as he twisted to avoid a thrown chakram. How Axel was able to aim was anyone's guess, as he had opted to wear eye patches over both eyes.

"I'm keepin' it authentic, ya scurvy son of a Shadow!" he retorted in character, when Roxas pointed out the flaw in his costume. "Any more about it and ya walk th' plank." Axel himself had then proceeded to almost do this himself by accident.

Since then, however, Axel had adapted well to blind-fighting, holding his own against the Gambler of Fate as they battled above the crossfire. He was standing on two Creeper Nobodies that had shapeshifted wings, on the same level as Luxord, who fought atop a massive ace of spades. Cards and fire clashed with relentless speed and strength, raining death down upon the unfortunate Nobodies swimming below. _Looks like a stalemate so far_, thought Axel. _I'd probably have the upper hand-_"If a certain LANDLUBBER KEY OF DESTINY would get up here and start earnin' his keep!" Axel shouted to complete this thought.

Back on the _Superior's Codpiece_, Roxas was carving a path through a horde of Gambler Nobodies that had snuck by Axel's firestorm. He moved as a blur in human shape, seemingly not slowed in the least by the massive golden pirate medallions he wore. Oathkeeper and Oblivion flashed like gunpowder, striking down the invaders as fast as they could advance and causing light to play off of his bare chest, exposed as it was by his half-open, off-white silk shirt. Roxas paused to shout back "WHAT DO YA WANT FROM ME? THE BLASTED THINGS ARE COMIN' OUT OF THE WOODWORK!" No sooner had Roxas resumed his battle than lightning came down from on high, instantly vaporizing the Nobodies in a circle around Number XIII. Roxas was momentarily dumbfounded by the sudden change in his fortune, and before he could recover Larxene hit the deck, landing from a midair somersault. She stood and flashed a triumphant grin. "That's how you fight like a true scourge o' the seas!" she taunted. More Gamblers were climbing onto the ship, and Larxene and Roxas exchanged knowing glances as they prepared to rush them. The Savage Nymph pulled fistfuls of knives from the bandoliers across her chest, adopting a flying-crane-fist style as the Gamblers summited the ship's railing. Roxas held his Keyblades ready, but then something important seemed to occur to him. His face registered confusion, and he lowered his Keyblades, turning to Larxene.

"This mightn't be the best time t' ask...but if yer down here an' the Cap'n's fightin' up there...who's steerin' the ship?"

Larxene raised an eyebrow, then rolled her eyes. "I left the wheel t' the Dusks. It's smooth sailin' as long as we keep circlin'."

Roxas craned his neck to look toward the rear of the ship. Two Dusks were standing on each other's shoulders, fumbling pathetically with the wheel. No sooner had Roxas seen this than the Dusks' subpar steering took its toll. The _Superior's Codpiece _pitched left and then right, rocking hard enough to send Larxene and Roxas tumbling to the deck. The Gamblers still in the act of climbing slipped and fell back into the water; the rest were mopped up once the two greater Nobodies got to their feet. When the last Gambler fell, Roxas turned to Larxene, fixing her with a dirty glare. "Care t' take the wheel back, helmslass?" Roxas's glowering expression melted into panic once he saw the state the wheel was in; the Dusks had slipped overboard, leaving the wheel to spin at terrifying speed on its own. Both he and Larxene sprinted in its direction, intent on stopping it before it was too late.

But nothing would come of their efforts. By the time they had gotten it under control, the _Superior's Codpiece _was on a head-on collision course with the _Nobody's Fool_.

All either crew could do was brace for impact. Demyx clung to his own wheel for dear life. Marluxia jumped overboard, abandoning ship in favor of riding his giant flytrap. Larxene and Roxas hit the deck, screaming; Luxord and Axel, meanwhile, had worked out what was going on and teleported back to the ships, their duel temporarily forgotten. All this took place in the space of about eight seconds, and then everything went to hell.

Both ships crashed into each other with a horrific sound of rending metal, shredding the prows and crushing any Nobodies unlucky enough to be in the vicinity of the impact. The vessels came to a shuddering halt, and all was silent as the full scope of the disaster was comprehended by the belligerents. Demyx was the first to shout the warning that dawned on them all:

"THEY'RE TAKIN' ON WATER! ABANDON SHIP!"

Immediately he took a chakram to the chest, screaming and collapsing in a heap. Axel teleported and stood over him, venom evident in his gaze. Or it would have been, had anyone seen his eyes beneath the patches. "Ye'll be goin' nowhere," Axel said, unknowingly addressing a cowering Dancer behind Demyx. "A cap'n goes down with 'is ship. 'Tis the law of the sea, and I'll not be havin' ya break it." He groped around with his hands to find Demyx, helped him to his feet, and the two shared a look of understanding. "To th' bitter end?" Demyx asked.

Axel nodded. "All the way to Davy Jones's Locker," he said solemnly, and the two shook hands. The others had recovered by now, and stood uncertainly, waiting for orders. Axel turned around, facing opposite from everyone else due to his blindness, and put his hand over where his heart would be, had he possessed one. "Lady an' gentlemen," he stated proudly, "it's been an honor fightin' with an' against ye. Today, we be maintainin' our honor by goin' out the way we began: in a blaze o' sound an' fury! LAST STAND O' TH' ORGANIZATION!" His speech ended in a roar that was echoed by the other five neophytes, who readied their weapons and prepared for the final fight.

"ALL TOGETHER! LAST STAND ON THREE!" Axel shouted.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THR-"

The ersatz pirates were cut off by a great _CRACK_ing sound, like a thousand boxes of firecrackers going off all at once. They turned as one in the direction of the noise, and saw a sheet of thick ice spreading across the manmade sea. The ships were now frozen in place, and Vexen stood at their base, a portal disappearing, his shield raised, a smirk evident in his expression as he tried to hold back laughter. As the battlefield cooled and solidified, Xigbar stepped out of the portal next to him. "Oh, yeah! Totally forgot - it's Talk Like A Pirate Day," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Vexen nodded, and replied: "Quite a shame so many Nobodies had to lay down their lives for it, isn't it?"

Xigbar shook his head, chuckling. "Good thing we got back before things could really get out of control. But man oh man, the Superior's gonna be _pissed_. Oh, speaking of, I think that's him coming now."

The Freeshooter was correct. Xemnas stepped out of a portal behind Xigbar and Vexen, wearing a look of incredulous indignation. He took in the absurd scene for a moment - the crashed-together ships, the remnants of the Nobody crews quickly shedding their bandannas and attempting to hide their weapons, the giant, frozen plant - and took a deep breath. "What," he began, "in the name of Ansem the Wise, has been going on while the senior members have been away?" Nobody spoke - the neophytes stood in shocked silence at the interruption. Vexen finally took it upon himself to answer for them. "Apparently, Superior, today is Talk Like A Pirate Day. The neophytes seem to have taken it to heart, and thus put together a naval engagement right under our noses. Sacrificed a fair amount of Nobodies for it, too, I believe."

Xigbar laughed out loud, and then suddenly stopped, a dangerous glare contorting his features. "And _now_," he growled, "I think I know who stole my eye patches!" Vexen could take no more, and succumbed to a howling fit of laughter. Xigbar summoned his arrowguns, prepared to exact vengeance for Axel's theft, but Xemnas raised a hand for silence.

"Peace, Xigbar. Vexen, I have come to the conclusion that the most appropriate form of punishment for this senseless waste of resources is one befitting the...renegade roles that they have chosen to play. Unfreeze the water when I tell you to. I shall assemble a crew to repair the ships." The rest of the Organization wore looks of utter confusion at Xemnas's statement. The Superior teleported directly onto the deck of the _Nobody's Fool _and in front of Demyx, who flinched so hard his admiral's hat fell to the ground. Xemnas regarded it coolly, and then picked it up, putting it on himself. With an exaggerated flourish, he turned around to face Xigbar.

"Number II," Xemnas announced. "When these vessels are in working order, take the neophytes and keelhaul the lot of them."

* * *

I think this is the most fun I've ever had writing fanfiction. The idea is to write a oneshot based on a single word; when I heard "Pirate," Axel and his eyepatches leaped immediately to mind. The rest is history.

Hope you're enjoying reading this fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it. It's an appetizer while Ashes to Ashes remains on hiatus. Sorry for the delay, by the way; school seems determined to keep me from my keyboard. But rest assured, Ashes to Ashes still exists! Chapter 11 is in slow progress, and it WILL come.

Love and thanks to all the readers,

Zellarius Burvenia


	4. Regulations, Part I

The Beginning of the End is the main hall of the Castle that Never Was, and serves as the primary hub for activity within the building. A large bulletin board hangs on the wall opposite the massive double doors at its entrance, colored dark gray to stand out against the Castle's ivory interior. Mission schedules are posted here, as well as a comprehensive list of Organization XIII's more...specific laws.

**Regulations Governing Organization XIII**

**A. Applicable to All**

I. The Organization operates covertly. Therefore, "raping and pillaging" will not be tolerated.

II. The Superior does not concern himself with the activities of his subordinates in their spare time, unless said activities involve anything on this list, structural damage to the castle or at least a block of the Dark City, visits to the infirmary longer than two days, or Nobody casualties in excess of one legion.

III. Mission reports may not contain Insane Clown Posse lyrics, especially "Piggy Pie."

IV. The lesser Nobodies may not be used as target practice or for manual labor for personal construction projects.

V. The Superior draws his strength from nothingness and from Kingdom Hearts, not from the Power of Greyskull, the Force, or the Clapper.

VI. Despite the lack of any non-Organization presence, the Dark City is not clothing optional.

VII. Pursuant to the above, the Organization does not support casual Fridays. No exceptions.

VIII. The Superior's favorite book is not "Heart of Darkness," and all operatives should refrain from saying so.

IX. The Blank Library does not have an "Adult" section.

X. The Intangible Treasury should be taken literally unless otherwise specified.

XI. Painting Organization ships bright red is prohibited for aesthetic reasons, and also will not make them faster.

XII. Reenacting the last five minutes of "V for Vendetta" anywhere in the Dark City is prohibited.

XIII. Just because we don't exist doesn't mean any transgressions technically haven't happened.

**B. Applicable to Xigbar**

I. My eyepatch does not make me the "Pirate Lord of the Castle."

II. I may not reenact "The Most Dangerous Game" with anyone or anything sentient.

III. Even though everyone can teleport, I must keep floors intact where I know the other members will be walking.

IV. I may not ask subordinates to refer to me as Quick Draw McGraw, Doc Holladay, El Mariachi, or derivatives thereof.

V. I may not hide on the ceilings of the Castle that Never Was for the purpose of "power loogies."

VI. I may not use my powers to reenact "Poltergeist" using any room in the Castle.

VII. For any room other than my own, furniture arrangements must involve a surface, and this surface must be the floor.

VIII. I may not taunt the Superior with "I know something you don't know."

IX. Happiness is not a warm gun.

X. I may not use my arrowguns to carve anything into Kingdom Hearts, obscene or otherwise.

XI. I may not use my arrowguns to make the neophytes "dance" for any reason.

XII. Suppressing fire is not a proper greeting.

XIII. My room is the Room Without Walls; therefore, it is not the Naked Room.

**C. Applicable to Xaldin**

I. The World that Never Was has no aberrant weather patterns (hurricanes, windstorms, etc.). If one does manifest, I will be the prime suspect.

II. My sideburns do not entitle me to a motorcycle, bomber jacket, or helmet. Nor do they make me the "Disco King of the Nobodies."

III. Larxene's cloak blowing up around her waist was not caused by that air vent she walked over, and I have the scars to prove it.

IV. I may not settle arguments by removing the oxygen from wherever the belligerents happen to be.

V. My mission to obtain the Beast's Heartless and Nobody does not include being Belle's "rebound guy" if and when I succeed.

VI. Dressing the captain of the Dragoon Nobodies as Trogdor was only funny the first time.

VII. Nobodies do not have hearts. Therefore, despite our best efforts, Lexaeus, Axel, Demyx, and I cannot summon Captain Planet.

VIII. Though my powers may make me a master of the art, "perfect whoopie cushions" are considered an abuse of them.

IX. My proper title is "The Whirlwind Lancer," not "The Last Airbender."

X. I have six lances. Therefore, I am lying when I claim I am "undercompensating."

XI. I may not take out tornado insurance on anything for any reason.

XII. Braids are acceptable for Organization meetings. Rastafarian garb is not.

XIII. No matter how wrong they may be, I am to refrain from murdering weathermen on live TV.

**D. Applicable to Vexen**

I. My experiments may not include any of the following: the Castle's utilities (water, electricity, ventilation, etc.), any member of the Organization, or any species of ferret.

II. When conducting experiments, I will refrain from recruiting Larxene for "dramatic effect."

III. My attribute is not an excuse to torment Demyx.

IV. I may not recreate the ninth circle of Dante's Hell.

V. The temperature of the Castle must be kept at 70 degrees Fahrenheit, not 70 degrees Kelvin.

VI. I may not refer to the neophytes as "potential test subjects."

VII. Arnold Schwarzenegger as Mr. Freeze was not the best thing about "Batman and Robin," in the same way that muscle wasting is not the best thing about AIDS.

VIII. I am not the god of Christmas Town.

IX. Anatomically correct ice sculptures of the Organization's operatives have no place at our banquets.

X. Anatomically exaggerated ice sculptures have no place in our universe.

XI. The industrial freezers adjacent to the kitchens are not mine in which to store artificial organs.

XII. Snow outside is nothing out of the ordinary. Snow inside warrants a reprimand.

XIII. If it gives Roxas nightmares, I must scrap whatever new species of Heartless or Nobody I have created.

**E. Applicable to Lexaeus**

I. I may not fight Demyx for the title of "Rock God."

II. The Silent Hero is expected to speak when spoken to.

III. All things did not come from me, and all things shall not return to me.

IV. I do not get Earth Day off for "environmental reasons," as the World that Never Was has no environment.

V. I will not, will not rock you, rock you.

VI. I cannot talk to animals, and should not try.

VII. My ethnic background is not "Igneous/Caucasian."

VIII. Marluxia's health does not depend on my mood.

IX. My tomahawk is a necessity. My totem pole, fire pit and war bonnet are not.

X. Mining is not possible anywhere in the World that Never Was, and should not be attempted.

XI. No earthquakes in the World that Never Was, even if the Castle floats.

XII. Despite my rank, and despite basic science, I cannot ground Larxene, literally or figuratively.

XIII. Carving my likeness in mountains the universe over is frowned upon.

**F. Applicable to Zexion**

I. There is no reason to have fifteen doors to my room, fourteen of them illusory, especially when we can all teleport.

II. On the subject of false doors, I may not enchant a door to appear closed no matter how many times it is "opened."

III. I cannot kill anyone who annoys me simply by writing their name in my lexicon. Conjuring illusions of Shinigami to follow me around is pushing it.

IV. If one of my Absent Silhouettes breaks the rules, I will still be held responsible.

V. Unless it is to obtain his heart for the Organization's aims, I may not devote large blocks of time to screwing with David Copperfield's mind.

VI. I may get blitzed and I may read the Cthulhu Mythos. As of last Halloween, I am not allowed to do both at the same time, nor am I to be put in charge of decorations.

VII. Discerning who farted in a crowded room and revealing his identity is neither useful nor funny. Doing so when nobody actually farted is an abuse of my superior sense of smell.

VIII. For the sake of appearances, I may not use a Playboy omnibus as my weapon.

IX. I may be particularly well-read, but I am not entitled to make up words for the sole purpose of screwing with the rest of the Organization. Nor may I use my powers to make any of these words appear in the dictionary.

X. Whether or not it was intentional, I am forbidden from setting foot in Las Vegas until my cult there has dissolved. This also applies to Luxord.

XI. Regardless of my powers, I may not show up at Disney Castle claiming to be the rightful master of Mickey Mouse. It won't work.

XII. Creating an illusion of post-nuclear Hiroshima in the Garden of Futility entitles Marluxia to lace the pages of my books with contact poison.

XIII. Using my powers to make broken glass look like scrambled eggs is grounds for confinement to the Hundred Acre Wood for at least two days.

**G. Applicable to Saïx**

I. My attribute does not make me a werewolf.

II. My window is for the excellent view of Kingdom Hearts, not for spying on the female Nobodies.

III. My attribute does not make me the Organization's ambassador to any alien civilization.

IV. I have proven my devotion to the Superior on multiple occasions. Guarding his door is unnecessary and slightly disturbing.

V. I may not enter Berserk for mundane reasons, including but not limited to: overcast days, burnt food, or the laughter of the younger operatives.

VI. I do not have the power to crash moons into their planets, and therefore cannot use this as leverage for anything.

VII. Rank VII is still the first neophyte.

VIII. During a full moon, Larxene and I are forbidden from being in the same room.

IX. My weapon is not that kind of claymore.

X. Neil Armstrong is not my archrival.

XI. "Stairway to Heaven" is not my theme song.

XII. Suns do not drain my strength, and therefore I cannot get away with only running missions at night.

XIII. When asked "Why?", summoning my claymore is not a valid answer.

* * *

So coming up with 13 of these for each operative is a little harder than I anticipated. I love "Don't" lists, and was recently inspired to do one of my own by "213 Things Skippy is No Longer Allowed to do in the US Army. Go read it, as it was written by someone far more skilled than I. I'll post the other seven in the next chapter. If you don't get B-VIII, it's a reference to Birth By Sleep, and most likely not as funny as I thought it was.

Love and thanks to all the readers,

Zellarius Burvenia


End file.
